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A Dark Awakening
A Dark Awakening is a book added by the mod Falskaar. It tells a story of Jannaviir Barrof and his travels in Vizemundsted. Contents In 137 of the Third Era, the Dwemer automatons within Vizemundsted sprung to life, slaughtering all in their path. Only one Nord escaped alive. This is the first hand account of the grim events that occurred on that day, as told by sole survivor, Jannaviir Barrof. I walked out into the main chamber of the complex. I was preparing to file another chapter of history regarding the origins of Vizemundsted, the Dwemer structure that I stood in now. It was early in the morning, perhaps around seven-thirty. Vegaz waved at me as I approached her, I nodded a friendly greeting in return. "Filing yet another completed work?" She asked. "Why, yes I am." I replied. I handed her the large, leather-bound book. The front read 'Origins of Dwemer in Falskaar' in large gold-leafed letters. She gazed over the cover for a short while, then opened it and flicked through the pages, muttering to herself as she did. "Very nice." She said, clearly intrigued by the size of the book, and amount of knowledge it must contain. "You can read it after Penjar documents it." I said. She nodded with satisfaction and handed the book back. I continued on my way down to the main lexicon so the book could be transcribed into the records, finally gaining its place on the shelves after so much hard work. I reached the bottom of the main stairs when there was a violent rumble, and the entire chamber shook. Everyone exchanged worried glances. We all waited, and after a short pause, slowly began resuming our tasks. It was just as we were doing so, that the doors at the top of the stairs burst open, and a fellow scholar clambered through. He was on fire, and he promptly ran right into the railing, flipping over it. As he did he released a horrifying scream, smashing into the tables below. We all stared in horror, when suddenly through the door came three Dwemer Spheres. They paused for a moment, clicking and chattering, and then at once they seemed to communicate. Two rolled off the balcony into the center of the room, and the third down the stairs straight at me. My immediate thought was to locate Vegaz. She was pregnant with our first child, and I had to get her away from what was surely to become a massacre. I saw her across the chamber, huddled under a table. Two scholars stood over her, their spells already blasting away at the spheres. I broke out in a sprint towards her, running right past one of the spheres that had clambered down from the ledge above. I saw the second sphere heading straight for her. It raised its arm, mutilating one of the scholars, before quickly doing the same to the other. I readied a spell in my hand. I had to save her. Just before I reached the sphere, I released the pent up magic from my palm. It exploded in front of me, the warm flames caressing my face. The sphere rolled back a few feet, but couldn't avoid me, and I slammed into it, knocking it over. I quickly fired another spell into where its head appeared to be. It screeched and swiveled, then lay still. I got up off of the mangled contraption and looked over to Vegaz. In my haste, I had forgotten about the third sphere that had headed after me down the stairs. In my concentration it had sped past me and was already to her. She screamed as it picked her up by the neck, and looked menacingly towards me. I put my hands together, building the largest fireball I could, when I suddenly heard a deafening slam. I was distracted and turned my head to the left, only to see a massive Dwemer Centurion looming over me. It clattered, shooting steam from its shoulder, and raised its hand. I had no choice but to unleash the fireball into its chest, cascading flames everywhere. But it had little effect, and the monstrosity brought its arm down across my chest, flinging me across the room and into the wall. I blacked out. When I awoke the air was stale with smoke, among several other vile scents. I leaned up, and a sharp pain shot down my back. I gently worked myself free from some of the rubble covering me, and began forming a basic healing spell in my hands. I let the magic work itself over me, and began feeling better. After a few minutes sitting alone in the chamber, illuminated only by the faint glow of my spell, I stood up. I had no idea what time it was, or if any Dwarven automatons were near, but I knew one thing was certain. I had to get out. I quickly made my way up the main stairs, back through the door from where my enflamed colleague had appeared earlier. I began my ascent towards the surface, pausing at every sound I heard, and praying to the Nine that someone else had survived. But my trip came to an abrupt halt when I discovered that the main entry tunnel had collapsed. I was stuck, unless... Yes, I thought to myself, there was an elevator in the lower levels, back across the main chamber. It went to the surface. I could use it to escape and bring word of what had happened to Amber Creek. I worked my way back into the main chamber, the smell now apparently rotting flesh. I had started down the steps, when a group of Dwarven spiders appeared at the far end of the chamber. They clambered around for a bit, before scurrying back down the hallway. I made my way across the chamber to the far hall. The lexicon was just ahead, and in a small hallway off that room, the elevator I needed to reach. However, as I entered the final large chamber, I froze. In the center of the room was the Centurion. It stood there, quietly rumbling. I made my way carefully along the wall, as to stay as far away from it as possible. I had made it about half way to the hallway, when the Centurion abruptly snapped up, its head searching the room. I then heard a loud clattering behind me, and was horrified to see the group of spiderbots heading directly towards me. The Centurion then turned around, and began walking straight for me as well. The Centurion shrieked as it approached, and with its first call, at least a dozen more spiderbots filtered into the room, along with a couple spheres. I broke out into a hard sprint for the second time that day, heading straight for the elevator. The Centurion picked up speed, rushing to cut me off. It crushed spiderbots under its feet as it ran, and swatted spheres aside. I threw a few fireballs at it, but they erupted around it doing absolutely nothing. I ran faster, and the Centurion powered ahead at full speed. If it caught me, it was going to tear me apart. As I neared the hallway, so did the Centurion and I closed my eyes and leaned forward even farther. I charged another spell in my palms, this time of ice. Just as I reached the entrance to the hallway, I dove into it. Time seemed to slow; I opened my eyes to see the Centurion just feet away, bringing up its arm to swat me down like a fly. It roared with a rage that seemed almost human among its clattering gears and grunting pistons. Just as I passed through the horizon of the opening, I aimed my hands directly at its chest, and let the spell go. I heard it impact, a frigid blast and spine shattering shock hit me, boosting me into the hallway. Ice shards rained down upon me, and I covered my face and yelled as I was blasted with freezing air and razor sharp ice. As soon as the barrage ended, I got to my feet and turned to face the doorway. To my luck, the Centurion was just big enough to get jammed in the opening. It sat there, calmly grinding as its red eyes stared me down. I wondered why it wasn't swatting at me, then I realized; my spell had been amplified, its intensity built up along with my own adrenaline. The Centurion was frozen in place. It couldn't move. I sighed in relief, and headed down the hallway. I entered the elevator and pulled the lever. As it began grinding and sprung into life, I leaned against the wall, and slid down to the floor. I stared down the hall as the Centurion continued to fix its gaze on me. The elevator jolted and began moving upward. I watched as the hallway lowered and the Centurion slipped out of sight. After what seemed like an eternity the sliding walls in front of me burst open to reveal daylight. I slowly got up, opening the gate, and walked out of the elevator. I made it perhaps 15 feet before I collapsed, and passed out. When I woke up, I was in the care of a hunter, out for the afternoon from Amber Creek. That was almost 40 years ago. 40 years of rebuilding what I could. The events of that day shattered my spirit, and in a way that meant most of the knowledge I had spent so long learning, was gone from my mind. I rewrote what I could, to the best of my abilities. But the books that resulted were far fewer, and less detailed than those contained within Vizemundsted. Not a single other person emerged from those depths. I was the only one to survive. To this day, I haven't a clue what caused the dark awakening in Vizemundsted. We lived in the hallowed halls of that place for so long. Even my elaborate studies of its history are no help in finding the cause of our misfortune. Perhaps someday someone can return. With any luck, they will find a bastion of knowledge and history, the likes of which could not be found anywhere else in the great land of Falskaar. Category:Skyrim: Falskaar Category:Skyrim: Falskaar Items Category:Skyrim: Falskaar Books